Original subtitles

Kellogg's, the best to you each morning from Kellogg's.

brought to you by Kellogg's your best choice in cereals the best to you each

morning

Good morning, class.

Good morning, teacher.

Is the class ready to continue our private eye lessons?

The class is ready. And I put an apple on your desk this morning, too.

A most worthy contribution.

And now for our lessons.

Today, we deal with strange oddball capers. This is the leaning tower of

pizza. What makes it lean, Snoop? It doesn't lean, Blab.

Gosh, Snoop.

It looks leany to me.

Me clever deductions prove that the ground leans, not the tower.

How astute. How perceptive. How ingenious.

But nevertheless true.

Me toughest caper was figuring out why bats hang upside down by their teeny

feet. Did you solve it, Snoop? Only after a scalp-tingling solution.

I hung by my feet for 37 days looking for a clue.

And what did you get, Snoop?

A tingly scalp.

It was quite an experience.

Gee, I'll say.

Wowee. Gee whiz. Gosh.

Then, like a flash flash, I had the solution.

What was it, Snoop? The suspense is awful.

Elementary, me dear blab. I merely ordered a couple of chairs to rest our

worrisome feet.

Here you see the little fella saying, Thanks, pal.

That's a load off me feet.

A well-deserved accolade for a humane private eye.

Pardon me, class.

Snooper Detective Agency, if your case is strange, we don't work for small

change.

You say you'll pay us 50,000 bucks just to guard a birthday party?

For an extra buck and a half, we'll blow the siren on the way over.

Is it a strange oddball caper, Snoop? No, Blab. Million 1203. Garden birthday

gifts.

Mr. and Mrs. J.

Evil Scientists.

Uh, this is it, Blab. I got an eerie feeling this is gonna be a strange

oddball caper after all.

Parlay your fares, Blab. A happy birthday is a happy birthday.

Ah, good evening, gentlemen.

My, what a handsome pair of heads.

I'm an artist.

Would you pose for me sometime?

Certainly. Do you paint heads?

No, I shrink them.

So long, Snoop. I'm shrunk enough.

Come back, you booby blab. He's only joking.

I hope. Who is it, dear?

It's the birthday party experts, dear.

Good. Let's be on our way.

You're going out?

Yes, we're going to a scary movie.

It's called Ben Horror.

But what about the party?

Where are all the frolicking and cajoling guests?

A good private eye never overlooks the slightest detail.

There are no guests.

This is just a simple little birthday party for Junior.

I'm sorry, madam, but emceeing a kid's birthday party is a little out of me

private eye line.

Would $60,000 be more in line?

Don't say another dollar. I'll do it.

I wonder where Junior is, Snoop.

Perchance he's in his play penitentiary, Blab. Getting ready for the festivities.

Hey, Junior, leave or start earning my 60,000 clams?

Here comes our guest of honor, Blab. Hi, Junior.

Wah, wah, wah.

Cute little tyke, isn't he?

Happy birthday, Junior.

That goes double, I assure you.

Wah, wah, wah.

Leave the jovial fun begin.

Wah.

Don't be silly, Blab. It's only a toy.

Children.

Look, Snoop. Junior is absconding with the cake.

Hey, come back here with that happy birthday cake before you ruin it.

You ragged little naughty muffin.

Where's the cake?

In the playpen, eh?

Well, leave us retrieve it and get on with the party.

Wah, wah, wah.

I don't see it, Junior.

Are you sure you put the cake in here?

Ouch!

Help!

Quick, where did Snoop go?

Wah, wah, wah.

In the playpen, huh?

Snoop, are you in there?

Pump your life flap. It's a 707.

What's a 707, Snoop? A Crockett Island.

Goose, leave us, get out of here.

You're right, Snoop. I don't care about the $60,000 either.

I forgot about that.

That's a lot of forgetting to do, isn't it, Snoop?

Now, what do you say we open some presents, Junior?

Wah, wah, wah.

Here's a swollen, Snoop. It's a do-it-yourself monster kit.

Good. That ought to keep him busy till his folks come home.

God,

Snoop, he's finished already.

God,

Snoop, is it for real?

Search me, Blab. But here it comes, and here we go.

Sounds like they're having a great party, my dear.

Look, darling.

It's the babysitters. They didn't even wait for the $60,000 fee.

Too bad.

I wanted to tell what a good movie Ben Horror was.

Especially the chariot race.

What a pileup.

Sleep on and rest, father who is fatigued. Your dutiful son has not

forgotten your birthday.

Surprise number one, a scrumptious birthday cake.

Surprise number two, a birthday gift.

Surprise number three, a 10-gallon hat daddy size.

And surprise number four will be a rousing hero-type birthday awakening.

You can't jump for that. The sky is falling.

Boggy, what's all the racket about?

It's your birthday. Many happy returns, dear old dad, on this, your natal day.

For a minute, I thought it was my doomsday.

Do you like your hat, western-type dad?

Thanks, Augie. It's very western.

Come on, deserving dad.

There are more surprises.

After all, it's a father's birthday duty to withstand surprises.

Be aghast with wonderment at your gift, dear old dad.

I bet it's a cement mixer.

For a man who has everything?

Open it, open it. Open it already, open it.

Stop the stampede there, partner.

I'll open it if it takes me all day.

And from the size of that package, I wouldn't be surprised if it did.

There now.

What's the big surprise?

Who's this, Augie?

That's Roscoe. Say hello to Dad, Roscoe.

Get this beast off. Do something quick.

Here I go.

He goes with a 10-gallon hat, Dad.

That's all right with me, Augie.

Here.

Now go with the 10-gallon hat.

Gee, Dad.

All right.

The hat can stay.

Because my dear old dad rejected my birthday gift, I shall grow up with a

trauma. I wouldn't want my boy to grow up with a trauma.

Dad, I waste time.

Does that mean Roscoe can stay, dear father of all time?

I guess so, Augie.

Oh, boy.

One thing, Augie, unless Roscoe learns to cut this out, out he goes.

It's a breathtaking cake, Augie, my son. Thanks, Grateful Dad.

Now make a wish.

Not you, you hay burner.

Me. It happens to be my birthday.

Now let me see.

Shoo, you old fly, you. Shoo.

I wish her.

Get off my nose!

Can't you see I'm thinking to make a wish?

Get the fly, Swatteroggy!

What happened?

It was only a fly, dear old dad.

It felt more like a horsefly to me.

You can blow the candles out now.

Now you done it. You blew my cake right out the window.

Hi there.

I'm an innocent passerby.

Oh, I'm very sorry, sir.

We were just celebrating my birthday.

A little family fun, you understand?

Of course.

And here's a little gift for you.

Happy birthday, sir.

That does it.

Roscoe will have to go. But, Dad, you're not going to break your word, are you?

Hoggy, my boy, be reasonable.

What can I do with him? Well, he can take you for healthy horseback rides,

Flabby Dad.

Can't you, Roscoe?

Yeah, I'll say.

Hoggy, make him stop.

Help!

Get me off, Hoggy. Get me off.

Are you hurt? Tall in the saddle, Dad?

I only hope I make it to my next bite day.

Go tell Dad you're sorry, Roscoe. I refuse to accept his apologies.

I remain Terra-famer and Terra-cutter.

It's no use.

My mind is made up.

You can throw all the transoms you want.

But I ain't budging. Why, you...

Pocky, get me off of here.

Attaboy, Dad.

Ride him, cowboy.

Help!

You did it again, Ditto Dad.

I give up, Pocky, I give up. I accept your birthday gift.

You're welcome, Dad.

Really?

Oh, Dad, what do you think of anyone who would separate a father and a son?

Words cannot elucidate a low-down, no-good low-life who would dare do such

a thing.

Hey, you hear that, Roscoe? That means it's okay.

Meet Roscoe Jr., Dad. He'll stay here too.

But Augie, what can we do with two horses in the house?

And of what earthly use could they be?

Look,

Dad, there's your answer.

Well, what do you know?

After all, how many homes can boast a pair of real live horse bookends?

When gold was discovered in the old west... Gold!

Gold! The gold rush was on.

In their hasty greed for gold, the miners overlooked many of life's

necessities.

I'm hungry, Zeke.

Me too, Jeb. Maybe it's cause we haven't eaten in three weeks. Bye, Jingles. In

our hasty greed for gold, we plum forgot to bring something.

Yep, food.

And so it was that common, ordinary chicken eggs sold for $25 each and more.

Easy terms arranged.

This is a sticker.

Give me a couple of eggs scrambled.

Scrambled, too.

To meet the demand for more eggs, the first chicken ranch was started.

By a former cattle baron. Yes, sirree.

Cattle keep legs.

And besides, who ever heard of chicken rustlers?

But he was wrong, for the first chicken rustler was already at work.

That's right, you know. Like, I'm a natural-born chicken rustler, and I kind

of am a chicken hawk.

There's a connection there some ways.

Like,

if I was a potato bug, this sock would be full of potatoes instead of chickens.

It figures.

Our chickens are being stolen. Where's the sheriff?

Out hunting gold to buy eggs with.

Then who's going to stop this chicken-rustling chicken hawk? There's

one and only one who can.

That highfalutin' as fast as shootin' as Quickstraw McGraw!

Hey, Quickstraw, what do you think the cattle baron wants you for?

To catch a no-good cattle rustler, Baba Louie. What else?

I'll tell you what else, McGraw.

to catch a no-good chicken rustler. Chicken rustler? Well, now, that's a

little out of my line.

How about a $10,000 reward?

Is that a little bit out of your line, too?

Let's face it, Quickstraw, it's not chicken's feed.

Then I'll catch that chicken hawk, or my name ain't Quickstraw, Chicken Rustler

Catcher McGraw.

How you think you're gonna catch him, Quickstraw?

With this, Bubba.

My, uh, single-shot, uh, radar return shooter.

Hey, don't point that thing at me.

It won't hurt you, Bubba.

See? It only goes after chicken hawks.

Ahem, uh, pardon the intrusion, gentlemen, but I'm a dire need of loose

chicken feathers.

My pillow is dreadful unlumpy without them.

Why, sure, little stranger.

There's plenty of them in the chicken coop.

Just help yourself.

I'm overwhelmed by your generosity.

Not at all.

Hey, Quistro, I think that's a chicken hawk. Chicken hawk? Are you sure?

Well, I don't think he's a canary.

Relax.

All I want is your eggs.

so as I can blast you with my chicken hawk single shooter.

Uh-oh.

Time for a little horse sense.

As one horse to another, how would

you like to be a chicken hawk?

Hey! Hey!

Hey! Who did that?

Well, we proved one thing.

My radar chicken hawk gun works.

I think Quistra has a bird brain.

What did you say?

I said I think it's going to rain.

That's a real looking chicken, dummies, Quistra.

Except it's loaded with TNT, Baba Louie.

And when the chicken hawk grabs it, whammo!

Nothing but chicken hawk feathers.

Oh, that's a terrible thing to contemplate.

What is, son?

Well, look, I'm an honest chicken hawk, and one of your chickens is running

around loosed.

Thank you, honest chicken hawk. I'll take care of it.

Here, chick, chick, chick, chick.

Ah,

there you are.

It's back in the coop for you.

Oh, there's a chicken hawk on the line.

Here goes.

No more chicken rustling. McGraw?

Yes, sir?

Remember that $10,000 I promised you?

Yes, sir.

Well, it's down to $1.30.

But Quickstraw, I don't think I want to be a chicken.

I'll do the thinning around here, so make like a chicken.

Now, that's what I call a Sunday-sized chicken with enough left over for sneaky

snacks. Snack this, you chicken rustler.

Yikes! Hey, watch it, will you, Quickstraw?

Gosh, I'm sorry, Bubba Boy.

Oh, sir, better hasten. Quickstraw's like shooting up your chickens.

Oh, he is, is he?

McGraw? Yes, sir?

That $1.30 reward is now down.

Well, I'll catch that chicken hawk for nothing.

My dander is up.

One man a two. A one man a two.

I don't think that chicken's going to beat up that chicken hawks. I know a

bandy fighting rooster when I see one, Bubba.

Go on, bandy. Get up.

Give that chicken hawk the old one two.

Huh?

That's what I tried to tell you.

He's no fighting, Banty. He's a lady chicken.

Quikstra, don't you think the rooster is a little too young to be a fighting

rooster? Nope, Baba Boy. That chicken hawk's got to go.

That's why I'm training this little rooster early.

That Quikstra is pretty smart.

He never ends up with egg on his face.

Yippee-yi-yo-ki-yay, galloping all the way, there goes Quick Draw McGraw!

Kellogg's, your best choice in cereals, the best to you, each morning has

brought you Quick Draw McGraw!

Yippee-yi-yo-ki-yay, galloping all the way, great big star on his chest!

I'll draw all of the rest, last has come in the rest!

Yippee-yi-yo-ki-yay!